


Memento Mori

by MatCauthon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Holocaust, I promise Charles/Erik does happen though, Like slow as a slug, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Plotty, Slow Burn, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatCauthon/pseuds/MatCauthon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charles dies, Erik can't accept it, especially when he finds out the reason Charles poisoned himself. Before the stain of grief even has time to dry, Erik joins Kitty Pryde and is sent back into the past to save his best friend. The only problem is Erik has to go all the way to the beginning, and he can only do that with the help of his thirty-two year old self, who absolutely loathes Charles and everything he stands for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Memento Mori

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like a timeline of when this is set, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed because there's so much X-Men media it makes my head spin. I'm calling it AU because I'm going to mix and match with pasts and powers, and probably even make up some things, so if you're thinking things I write make no sense in canon consider those parts AU (like Kitty being fifty... let's call it a timeskip). The one thing I can say is that I'll be loosely following the original comic's version of Charles' past, not the reboot's (unless they bring up more about his past in the reboot). Other than that... IT'S BASED ON A COMIC AND THOSE THINGS ARE HELLA CONFUSING OKAY. 
> 
> This will probably be long, not gunna lie. Like really long. Like probably well over 100k words long when I'm done.
> 
> I like quotes way too much so I'll be putting one at the beginning of each chapter. I don't own any of them.
> 
> **I don't own any X-Men characters or other related media, this is written for enjoyment, not profit**
> 
> Speaking of enjoyment, I hope you enjoy even though I'm a rambling idiot. Comments/feedback is always appreciated. :)

“ **The past is never where you think you left it**.”

― Katherine Anne Porter

.ღ.¸¸.•*¨*•ƸӜƷ•*¨*•.¸¸.ღ.

The sky was just beginning to hold a touch of gray when Charles wheeled himself into the expansive courtyard outside of the X-Mansion. He took his time, deliberately keeping his pace slow and thoughtful; he wanted to enjoy even the trip to get to the chessboard. He hadn’t told anyone what was about to happen to him, and he had no desire to. Let them think his death was completely natural so that they wouldn’t take any drastic measures.

A small smile touched his lips despite the fact that he wouldn’t be here to see the growth and acceptance of the mutant world; Logan, Scott, Alex, Hank, Ororo and all of the others would ensure that his students would be well looked after. They had graduated into professors, and now the students were theirs by rite of passage. He had absolutely no regrets concerning them. His one and only regret was the man he was wheeling towards, who hummed gently under his breath as he moved pieces around on the board.

“It’s good to see you, old friend.”

Charles’ voice was warm, conveying the fact that he honestly meant what he said. Erik’s smile was real as he looked up, and despite all of the misgivings and spats they’d had with each other throughout their long, long lives, Charles could feel that he was genuinely pleased to see his best friend. In hindsight, the fights they’d had were completely and utterly stupid, and they both should’ve realized that their ideals were too extreme. Charles had been too naïve, and Erik had been too cynical. None of that mattered now, though—all that mattered to Charles was the fact that he would spend the last moments of his life playing his favourite game with his favourite person.

“Charles, you’re late.”

Erik glanced up at the sky in contemplation, his aged brow wrinkling as he watched the clouds darken ever so slightly. There was a storm coming in soon. They wouldn’t be able to play for hours on end, but there was enough time to enjoy one good, long game together. Charles wheeled up to the board with a snort, rolling his eyes playfully as if he were still a young man.

“I can’t exactly move the way I used to.”

It was a dig at the past, but it didn’t hurt either of them the way it once would’ve. Charles had accepted that his condition was a result of many mistakes, and Erik had accepted his guilt. They’d both moved on to bigger and better things anyway, this calm, easy friendship being one of them.

“The past is the past now. Let’s let sleeping dogs lie and play. I may not have the helmet today, but that doesn’t give you the right to cheat.”

Charles chuckled as he took the white side and moved a pawn two spaces. Since the pieces had been specifically crafted out of a magnetic metal, Erik simply moved them with his mind, sending a black pawn two spaces forward on the other side of the board.

“That hardly seems fair, seeing as how you’re using your powers.”

Charles moved another pawn and Erik mirrored his move on the other side. Charles’ eyes flickered up to Erik’s face for just a second as the other man frowned over the pieces, and he allowed himself to peek into Erik’s mind. It had nothing to do with cheating; he was only worried about Erik’s mental state and what that man would do once Charles keeled over. But what he saw appeased him more than he’d ever expected; since they’d last played, Erik had finally made peace with himself and the world. He must’ve considered what Charles had said to him last time they’d played.

“I can feel you digging, old friend, and I must say it’s quite distracting.”

Charles quickly slid out of Erik’s mind with a smile. Erik was now so used to Charles’ powers that he could feel the minute Charles even caressed his mind. Charles moved a rook after Erik had moved, striking out a hard offense right off the bat. He hadn’t played with the reckless, offensive abandon he’d used as a young man for a while now, but if this was his last game he wanted to have the most fun he could with it. Erik’s delighted laugh was worth it as Erik’s style changed to one of offense as well. Charles didn’t need to read his mind to know the game was making him reminisce about the first few times they’d played together. Back when things had seemed simpler and there wasn’t so much bad blood between them.

“Erik… do you mind if I ask you a seemingly strange question?”

Erik’s piece stopped mid-move before resuming again, and Charles could feel his surprise at being called by his first name. But he quickly recovered, probably assuming it was a distraction technique.

“I doubt anything you say can be stranger than usual… Charles. What is it?”

Though they both still heavily contemplated moves and seemed as if they were putting a huge amount of thinking into the game, they were both taking risks that would seem crazy stupid to a veteran chess player. Charles believed it was possibly the most fun he’d ever had playing, and he felt a deep contentment within himself. Yes, he could truly leave this world with no regrets now. The school would be fine, mutants would be fine, and Erik would be fine.

“Will you watch over my institute when I’m gone?”

Erik paused in the middle of dispatching Charles’ queen, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t speak for a couple more moves, but Charles left him to his thoughts, knowing that the longer he took the more seriously he was thinking it over. Finally, after realizing Charles had set up a trap for his queen and seen two steps further than he had, Erik spoke.

“I suppose I would if that was what you wanted. I don’t know if I’d stay here with them, but I’d check up on them and make sure no one tried to harm them. I don’t see how it matters, though, seeing as how you’ll probably hold on for another twenty years being the stubborn bastard you are.”

Charles laughed along with Erik and began setting up the pieces he’d need to put Erik in checkmate. He’d lost a lot during this game, but it was all for the greater good. Even if Erik couldn’t see it this match had a clear ending, and that was that the white would win. Even down to a rook and a pawn, Charles’s power of foresight gave him the upper hand.

“I’m sure you’re right, old friend, I’m sure you’re right.”

As Charles moved his pawn into the last row of Erik’s side, he felt a force rip through his mind so hard he almost gasped aloud. He’d been so distracted by Erik and the game that he’d forgotten about the other telepath in his school; Jean Grey. She was supposed to be out on a mission with Scott and Logan (he’d purposely chosen them because he knew their bickering would slow the mission) but apparently she’d come back early. Not only that; she’d read his mind and found out what he’d been hiding from everyone. He should…

He drew in a deep breath as he switched out his pawn for a queen. It didn’t matter now—he had made his peace with everything and everyone, and nothing Jean did could change what was to come. He could feel her trying frantically to get through to him, but he calmly blocked his mind off. It was only a matter of time before it happened now, and he wanted to finish one last game with Erik.

“Have you found some way to read my mind without my knowing or feeling it?”

Charles smiled at Erik’s bemused question as he backed the black king into a corner and set up both rook and queen so it was impossible for Erik to go anywhere else. This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for. A large, fat droplet of rain hit the middle of chessboard and Charles knew it was time for the storm to start.

“Checkmate.”

He reached over and picked up Erik’s king, holding it up with a gentle smile as Erik shook his head ruefully. Then he felt a squeeze within his chest. One squeeze, two, thr—

The king dropped from Charles’ palm as Jean, Logan, and Hank came running out into the courtyard yelling. Erik stood up in confusion, unsure of what was going on, until Charles slumped over in his chair with the ghost of a smile still on his face, and the chair began to tip. Erik lunged past the chessboard and caught Charles, a feeling of horror washing over him at the limpness in his friend’s body.

“No! No, no, no!”

Jean dropped to her knees beside Charles as Erik held his body, his face pale and his hands beginning to tremble as Jean gestured at Hank impatiently to give her something. The furry scientist was cautious with the needle as his huge, warm hand pressed it into Jean’s, and his face was contorted in a bestial snarl of worry. Jean was sobbing desperately as she tried to take the sheath off of the needle, and Erik was in such a state of shock that all he could do was watch her weakly.

It was Logan who finally acted in his usual impatient, rough manner, snatching the needle from Jean’s hands and jamming into straight into Charles’ chest.

“Wake up, you stupid piece of shit. You don’t have the right to die on us!”

Logan’s loud, wavering roar coupled with Jean’s sobs brought more and more students out to the courtyard to see what was going on. Erik could feel himself shaking, but he still couldn’t quite process the fact that Charles had just fallen over right in front of him as if it were no big deal. Wearing that stupid smug smile as if he’d known exactly what would happen.

“Professor Grey? What’s going on?”

A young girl who looked about fourteen stepped forward, her eyes round as saucers as she took in the scene before her. Her voice gave the others the courage to nod and murmur amongst themselves as they watched Jean swallow thickly and wipe furiously at her eyes, bending over to try giving Charles chest compressions. Charles—Professor X in their eyes—was like a legendary hero to all of them. The man who gave them a home and made them feel as if there was a place they were actually welcome. To see the man they all respected lying there so limp and still scared every single one of them.

“Jean! I heard Charles just collapsed. Is he—”

Alex stopped so suddenly that Scott, who had been following close behind him, crashed into him and the two fell near Jean. Jean looked up and the tears coupled with her expression told the men everything they needed to know. Charles was… he was…

Erik’s mind finally caught up and his voice was a simple whisper of one word.

“No.”

A few of the younger mutants backed up a little; they were still pretty scared of Erik, despite the fact that Charles had said he was okay. And, Jean realized, they had every right to be, because right now Erik’s mind was becoming a dark, swirling thing that had enough power to tear the whole school down. Jean drew in a deep, ragged breath, biting back her tears and sorrow, knowing that Charles would expect her to take over in a situation like this. She shot a meaningful look at Logan, Hank, Alex, and Scott, who caught it with mixed reactions.

Logan’s mind was clear enough, but she could feel sharp pain lancing through it every couple of seconds as he began clearing the crowd. Tears spilled over Hank’s face freely as he helped Logan, but the tears were only from his body being ahead of his mind, because he still couldn’t understand what exactly had happened. Alex sat on his knees in a mind-numbing sorrow; he’d been one of the first mutants recruited by Charles and he wouldn’t get up anytime soon. And Scott, the man she’d been with for years… he struggled to his feet to help Logan. If Charles was alive and well, she would’ve laughed incredulously at the sight.

“You _knew_.”

Now her main priority was Erik, who was getting angrier and angrier by the second. His arms were wrapped so tightly around Charles that Jean wondered if he’d ever let go. She watched him in wary sorrow as he spoke accusingly to Charles, everything and everyone else around him forgotten.

“You _knew_ you were dying. That’s why you asked me to look after the school. That’s why you asked me…”

Erik’s fingers tightened in Charles’ shirt, and his eyes flashed in an emotion so raw Jean had to look away. She didn’t know if it was anger, sorrow, love, pain, or a combination of all four, but she did know it was so incredibly potent that she shouldn’t be watching. She stood up, leaving Erik for a moment, while she closed her eyes and did her best to send a quick mental message to all of the students.

_You don’t need to worry. We’ll look after you the way Charles wanted us to._

It wasn’t exactly touching or eloquent, but it was the best she could manage, seeing as how she was barely even managing holding herself together at the moment. Erik was still speaking to Charles in a low, hushed voice, some of it accusatory and some of it pained, but he was pacified for the moment. Jean needed to keep him that way so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. She crouched beside him, resting a light hand on his shoulder. He flinched but he did nothing else suggesting that he was dangerous.

“How did he know he would die? Was he sick or…?”

Jean pressed her lips together tightly as the men she’d sent out to disperse the crowd came back, joined by Storm and Rogue, who had heard and done their best to help. Everyone waited for an answer, knowing that Jean was the only one who really knew just what had happened. They were especially curious since she’d run straight to Hank as soon as she’d gotten back, demanding a cure for a lethal poison that gave one a quick, painless death.

“In a way, yes. He was… he…”

Jean drew in a shaky breath.

“He poisoned himself to protect us.”

There was sharp intake of breath from the crowd as everyone listened, not a single one left undisturbed by the fact that Jean had more or less said Charles committed suicide. Even Logan, who had stepped forward to say something fowl and terrible in his anger, stopped and just listened, his mouth half hanging open in an angry sort of horror.

“He poisoned _himself_? Charles killed _himself_? What the hell is wrong with you? How could you even _say_ that?”

Erik was getting dangerous again, and the chess pieces started rattling on the board as he glared at Jean, his jaw set in a way that suggested those chess pieces would be going through her head if she tried to say Charles was suicidal one more time. Logan took a large step forward, his claws crawling just beneath his knuckles as he pointed a fist at Erik threateningly.

“I don’t think he’d do it either, but give the lady a goddamn chance to explain.”

Jean was never more grateful for Logan’s intervention than she was now. She looked around that faces that waited patiently, albeit tensely, for an explanation, and she took strength in them.

“Professor Xavier recently found out that he was implanted with a certain object at some point in his life.”

Blank stares were on everyone’s faces, no one comprehending how that meant anything.

“This object… it contained a deity. Something like a demon. He didn’t know when exactly it was implanted or who did it, but he realized it was in him when he could feel its presence and intentions. It was evil, and it wanted out to take over the world and enslave all humans into worshipping it. It was going to use his body for that end.”

To be honest, the whole thing actually sounded standard from everyone’s point of few. Evil object, possession, plan to enslave all humans… Erik asked the question that was all on the tip of their tongues.

“Then why didn’t he just _get rid of it_? There was no point in killing himself if he could just remove the object.”

Jean looked down at the faintly smiling bald man sadly, shaking her head.

“It could’ve tried to take over his body anytime it wanted to, but instead it… I guess it put down roots. Roots so deep no one could sever the connection between it and Professor X. Professor X thinks… thought… it must’ve been there, waiting, for years. The only way Professor X could stop it from taking over his body was death.”

That made sense, then. Even Erik knew Charles would easily accept death if it meant he could save the empire he had built, and if the only other option was becoming a bane to the people he loved. It was truly a tragedy, but that didn’t make it any less noble or just… _Charles_. Something he would do, making the ultimate sacrifice to bring the black king down. Even if it cost him his life, he’d do it. But Erik wasn’t finished with Charles yet—the idiot had left with their score being exactly 199-199. He couldn’t let this go. They’d promised they’d play until one of them reached at least 200, and he needed to hold Charles to that.

“Where’s Kitty?”

Jean froze as she realized what he was going to do. Much as she wished she could allow it, she shook her head slowly.

“You can’t. Even if you stop him from taking the poison, the threat will still be there.”

Erik’s glare was sharp, but his arms were gentle as he set Charles down on the cobblestone, his eyes lingering on Charles face for a second longer than needed before he reached out to brush his friend’s eyes shut. He stood up, and the chess pieces rose up with him, white on one side and black on the other.

“Don’t try to stop me.”

Logan and Scott both moved to step forward, but Alex and Hank stopped them as Rogue took off one of her gloves and Storm bounced a mini lightning bolt through her fingers. If Erik tried anything, the ladies would take him down. They were more than happy to let some steam off, even if it was on Charles’ most beloved friend. Just as Erik took a menacing step forward, a small voice stopped everyone.

“If I can help, I will. This isn’t the way Professor X should have to die.”

The words not only relaxed Erik, who had been thinking the same thing, but they also made everyone else realize that it was true. Charles didn’t deserve to die by his own hand to save everyone. He deserved a natural death surrounded by his students, and a chance to say a proper goodbye instead of quietly tying up loose ends so no one would know what he was up to. Jean lowered her eyes apologetically and turned to Erik, but before she could say anything he surprised everyone.

“I’m sorry. I was rash because I was upset over Charles’…plan. But you’re right—stopping him from killing himself won’t solve anything.”

Kitty looked about to protest, but then Erik was speaking again.

“I can’t stop that… but I _can_ stop whoever implanted the object into him from doing it. If I go back and find them, then there’ll be no reason for Charles to die, right?”

Murmured assents echoed all around, even Logan, who seemed as if he wanted to pick a fight or argue with Erik. With Charles’ body lying in front of them and the grief over his death still fresh in their hearts, they couldn’t dredge up enough sense to protest what could possibly be an extremely dangerous mission. Kitty, for her part, looked thrilled that she’d be able to do something to help save Charles.

“That’s all good, but we don’t even know when it happened. If it was as long ago as Charles seems… seemed… to think, you may have to go back to when you were children.”

Erik hesitated, memories of Nazi concentration camps and death flitting through his mind. They were so vivid and horrifying that Jean flinched and stopped trying to see into his mind. Erik could go back and relive the horror of those days with the knowledge he had now, or he could let Charles stay dead. No. He couldn’t let Charles stay dead. In this case, there really wasn’t a choice. After all, they needed to finish that 200th game.

“I’ll go.”

That was it. He would just have to hope that he could use his knowledge from now to control his powers back then. He remembered how volatile he’d been, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was just getting his powers or if he hadn’t known how to use them. Oh well. Everything would be alright if he could just retain his knowledge.

“Um… there’s a slight problem with that.”

Erik raised an eyebrow as Jean let out a strangled gasp, then slumped as if in defeat.

“What?”

Logan demanded the answer before Erik could and everyone turned to Kitty, their faces fully expecting their hope to be crushed.

“I can’t send you back that far right now. My powers diminished after the accident with the anti-mutant group and you have too much knowledge for me to send it all back. I can send your consciousness back, but you’ll have to share a mind with your younger consciousness. If you want to go back to your childhood, you’ll have to convince your younger self to go, and you’ll have to find me from back then to send you.”

“How much younger?”

“Since I need to be alive and actually have my powers, probably about forty years. I would’ve been ten then, and you would’ve been... late twenties? Early thirties?”

“Thirty two.”

There was a collective groan and even Erik pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. He’d been in an extremely bad place at that time, and if there was any point in his life where he wouldn’t care about saving Charles, it was in his thirties. But if that was the only option…

“I’ll do it anyway. I’ll just have to convince my younger self.”

He’d just have to convince his younger, tyrant of a self to go back and relive the most painful years of his life to save the life of an ex-best friend. It would be more than difficult, it would be near impossible. But Erik cast one more look at Charles’ peaceful smile and the black king lying on the ground beside him, and he made a decisive choice.

“No matter what it takes, I’ll get him back. Let’s go inside and you can send me.”

As they made their way back inside (Hank cradling Charles’ body to get it out of the courtyard) to send Erik on the longest, hardest mission he’d ever receive, the clouds broke and it began to rain like crazy as lightning slashed across the sky. The storm wasn’t just coming; it was here and it was beating down with a fury the world had never seen before.

 


	2. Same Old Scars, Same New Wounds

“ **Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are, "It might have been."** ”

― Kurt Vonnegut

.ღ.¸¸.•*¨*•ƸӜƷ•*¨*•.¸¸.ღ.

“I think Charles had just found me when I was ten. If you come here in the past, I imagine this is where I’ll be.”

Erik nodded slightly, relaxing into the armchair that had been dragged out for him. He had no idea how he was supposed to make his younger self even go near Charles’ institute, but he would have to try. Kitty asked him if he was ready, and then a number of pale faces surrounded him, gazing down at him with steely determination.

“Save him, Erik.”

Alex’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it still held an intensity that probably couldn’t even be recreated with a shout. Hank nodded and leaned forward to give Erik’s shoulder a squeeze, and everyone could see the three of them shared something only those who had first met Charles could know.

“I will.”

Then Kitty gave a small nod and stepped forward, reaching out so her hands hovered just over Erik’s temples. He drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes, and then everything faded to black.

 **ღ** ***~***   **ღ** ***~***   **ღ**

Erik Lehnsherr woke up with a killer headache that informed him he wouldn’t be going out today. Too bad, considering the fact that he’d planned to rendezvous with Raven and recruit more mutants to join the Acolytes—S.H.I.E.L.D. was coming down on them with a heavy hand and they needed all the help they could get. However, if he felt this shitty he may as well stay in, because anything wrong in his head put him in an extremely bad mood. It reminded him too much of the man he’d once called a friend.

_What if you deigned to call him friend once more?_

Erik blinked in surprise at the thought, shooting up and looking around the room even though he knew the thought had come from his head. Despite the fact that the voice had sounded a lot like him and used the same inflections he did, he knew that kind of thought wasn’t his own. He’d long decided Charles would never be a friend if the man refused to join him and insisted on ‘peace’ and ‘love’ instead of the inevitable war. Perhaps once mutants ruled, he could ask for Charles’ forgiveness and friendship, but until then they were more or less on opposite sides of the spectrum.

_Don’t lie; you really do miss him, even if you don’t share the same way of going about your ideal._

Erik threw the covers off and actually got out of bed this time, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Someone was in his head, and besides Emma, who didn’t have the skill to make the voice sound like his own, he knew only one other telepath.

Rather than bothering with an answer, Erik stalked across the hotel floor and ripped the safe open without bothering to use the keypad. He wasted no time in using his powers to settle the familiar helmet on his head, and it was only when the cool metal rested against his face that he allowed himself to relax. There, now there would be no more telepath messing around in his head. But he wondered why Charles would even use his powers to try and convince Erik that he was missing him; it was so far from true that Erik obviously wouldn’t listen. And being friends again? Last time he and Charles had spoken, Charles had more or less spat out that Erik was an evil man whom he never wanted to see again.

_Charles isn’t in your head, you daft fool. Listen to me—I’m you from the future, and I need you to do as I say._

Erik froze in the middle of the room, his a frown creasing his brow as he made his way to the window and threw open the curtains and sliding glass door, stepping out onto the balcony. Warm air hit his bare chest as he went to the edge of the balcony, resting his hands on the railing and gazing out over the city of Munich. The city was impressive and beautiful with the first rays of morning light falling on it, remarkable architecture and colourful roofs rippling on the ground and stretching as far as the eye could see. Looking down from how high up Erik was, hundreds of tiny dots were visible bustling down the sidewalk while people hurried to work and cars weaved their way through traffic. Munich was one of the few cities, in Erik’s opinion, that smelled clean, but that could’ve been because the German air smelled like home to him.

“I don’t know how you’re getting through my helmet, Charles, but as soon as I spot you I’ll raise that wheelchair up to my balcony height and let it go.”

He muttered it under his breath as he searched the sea of people for a familiar head of brown and a wheelchair. He was completely serious about what he’d said too; he really would drop the wheelchair six stories down. Even if he stopped it from hitting the pavement, a freefall from that height wouldn’t be a very pleasant experience.

_How could I have been such an idiot in my youth? Think, Erik. Why would Charles be in Munich of all places? He doesn’t even know you’re here, and he has his students to look after._

Erik hated to admit the fact that the voice in his head was right. He had come to Munich for nostalgia’s sake while a friend of Raven’s (and apparently a lover of one of Charles’ students) named Forge looked after the technology side of what would soon be Erik’s base of operations. Erik had realized he’d needed a base considering the fact that the forces he’d amassed were quickly growing to an almost army size, so he’d constructed a place made almost exclusively of metal on a remote island. Some of the Acolytes suggested he put a base on an asteroid because that would be truly hard to find, but he’d thought the idea was ridiculous. Still, they’d affectionately named the base Forge was finishing ‘Asteroid M.’

The entire point, though, was that Charles knew none of this. Forge was loyal enough to Raven that she’d assured Erik he wouldn’t tell his girlfriend a thing. So there was absolutely no reason for Charles to show up in Munich and try to convince Erik that he was Erik’s past self. That was quite a disturbing thought, though, because if it wasn’t Charles being a self-entitled asshole and it wasn’t another telepath (if Charles couldn’t get through his helmet, no one could) then that meant one of two things. He was either going insane or he really was hearing the voice of… someone.

_Ah, Asteroid M. I forgot about that. It was quite the base, wasn’t it? If you were left to your own devices, you’d have quite the time playing cat-and-mouse with Charles. Although, mind you, you wouldn’t always be the cat. Charles was sometimes far too clever by half._

Erik leaned forward against the railing, digging his hands into it in annoyance. The voice in his head didn’t seem like it would be leaving any time soon, so he supposed he may as well answer it.

“Just tell me what to do to make you go away.”

It felt too strange to think at a voice in his head when it had his voice, as if he’d get mixed up between who was really thinking. The voice fell silent for a moment as if in contemplation, and Erik felt his patience wearing thin. So this voice—his ‘past self’—just showed up and started speaking to him, and whenever he asked it something it would ignore him unless it felt like answering? It was arrogant, infuriating, and downright rude. So the possibility that it was his future self was probably high.

“If you—if _I_ —came back from the future to tell my past-self something, I assume it would be something important. Am I right?”

_Yes. It involves saving the entire mutant species._

The voice sounded decisive, as if it had just made up its mind about something. Erik could read it like a book considering the fact that it was more or less his own, and he could hear that the voice was holding something back. Not quite lying, but not telling the full truth either.

“I see. In that case, I imagine it’s quite important. So why does your tone suggest I won’t like it?”

_It involves Charles._

Of course it involved Charles. Everything seemed to involve Charles, from the guilt that gnawed at Erik daily to the way Raven sometimes accidentally mixed up his name with Charles’ to an odd voice in his head telling him he should still be friends with Charles. Well he was done with the man, no matter what the universe tried to throw at him. If Charles put up a fight while Erik eradicated the human race, Erik would eradicate him. There. Problem solved.

_I wish I could leave you to your own devices, because it would inevitably lead to our rekindled friendship with Charles, but the matter at hand can’t be ignored._

“You have one minute before I find Emma and get her to expel you from my mind.”

No more fooling around; if this was all that would keep him back from the day, Erik would get rid of his future self and go about finding more Acolytes.

_Very well. The full gist of it is that someone has implanted a possessed object into Charles’ head, and if nothing is done about it Charles will eventually be possessed. Then he’ll destroy the world, mutants and humans alike._

Well that wasn’t quite what Erik had expected. To imagine Charles even trying to kill one person was ridiculous; to imagine Charles trying to destroy the entire world was laughably wrong. It couldn’t happen. Charles wouldn’t let it.

_He has no control over it. Listen to me, Erik, you have to go back in time and stop it from happening. Someone planted it in Charles when he was very young, and you have to go back and find out who. There’s a mutant named Kitty P—_

“You want me to go _back_?”

Erik’s voice, which was as sharp as a whip, made the voice in his head go silent immediately. He straightened, and the smoldering anger which always sizzled just beneath the surface began to burn in a way it hadn’t in a long time. Back? Back to cleaning up the bodies in concentration camps? Back to working for the man who had killed his mother for little more than his not moving a coin? And for what? To save Charles, who held the foolish, naïve ideals of a childish pacifist?

_You owe him everything. He gave you hope when you thought there was none._

“I offered him the world. He threw it back in my face for people who tried to kill us. To kill him.”

_I know how you feel. Even after the years I’ve spent with him, I still don’t completely understand how he can be so forgiving of an inferior race trying to destroy us. But I can forgive him. Because it’s him, and he’s hope._

“It’s not about forgiveness. I’d forgive him in a heartbeat and accept him by my side if he only asked. But he won’t, and for that I will never help him. Especially if it means going back there.”

_Then do it for the mutants. For Raven, Emma, Pietro, Wanda, and everyone else. For yourself, so that you can survive. If you let things be, you won’t survive what happens to Charles._

“If that’s the case… I’ll stop it. But on my own terms.”

“Stop what?”

Erik turned in surprise at the familiar voice; he had been so preoccupied with the voice that he hadn’t noticed Raven walk in. As he turned, he just caught a glimpse of human skin before blue was covering the woman’s body and her golden eyes watched him expectantly. Raven was his third in command, after Pietro, and he loved her like a sister. Despite the fact that she had met Charles in their late teens and they had been together since Erik met the two of them, she shared none of Charles’ desire for peace with the humans. Her idea of a perfect world aligned with Erik’s; a world where mutants ruled and humans were either caged or exterminated.

“According to my future self, Charles has some sort of object implanted in him that will make him destroy the world.”

Erik strode back into the room, rifling through the drawers for some clothes while Raven processed what he’d said.

“So you’re going to stop it… right…”

Erik took off his helmet to pull the shirt on, shaking his head in exasperation. He knew it was crazy, and he knew even considering listening to a random voice in his head was ridiculous. But something within him told him that the voice was telling the truth, and besides, if that would help him get rid of it then he’d do it.

“How exactly are you planning to do that?”

Erik raked a hand through his hair, turning to Raven. She saw the look in his eyes and she shook her head suddenly, taking a few steps back and covering her mouth in horror.

“You’re going to kill him?”

“No.”

It was definitely an option he could consider, but he wouldn’t. He owed Charles many things, and he wouldn’t take the man’s life before he had a chance to repay some of them. Even if it was through small things like not killing a friend of Charles’ or stopping humans from sending a nuclear bomb at the X-Mansion (he’d had to do that once. Long story). However, he did have to do something; letting Charles destroy the world wasn’t an option.

“I’m going to go there and talk with him.”

The voice in his head let out a lengthy sigh as Raven blinked in shock, then lowered her hands and raised a skeptical eyebrow. Since she had spies in Charles’ mansion, she knew exactly what things were like there and she knew how much pain Charles was in because of Erik. If Erik went there, even with good intentions, Charles would probably pitch a fit. At the very least, it may even drive him back into the alcoholism he’d only just managed to get rid of.

“We both know that’s a horrible idea. But before we even talk about that… Erik, a voice inside your head? A future you? It sounds like some big ploy to get you or Charles killed. Or the both of you. You’re just going to trust it?”

_Tell her I know about the surprise army she’s been preparing for you. Say I know all about the Brotherhood._

Erik blinked in surprise, then gave Raven a look that made her shift uncomfortably, one that was slightly a glare and slightly full of pride.

“The future me says you’ve been preparing a secret army called the Brotherhood to surprise me.”

Being blue, Raven didn’t usually have a tell of when she went pale, but Erik swore the hue of her skin lightened just a bit as she blinked in astonishment.

“Holy shit. You have a future you in you.”

Raven was raising an army in his name? That was flattering, although he was a little angry she hadn’t told him. No wonder they were having such a hard time finding mutants to join the Acolytes; Raven must’ve been recruiting them all into the Brotherhood. Since that had more or less confirmed that the voice in his head really was him, now he was beginning to think there were a lot of perks to this. If he knew everyone’s attack moves in advance and how his plans would be thwarted, he could avoid them all and—

_Save Charles. Then I’ll tell you whatever you want._

Erik bit back a bitterness at the realization that saving Charles would change the future and most likely get rid of the voice in his head. It was surprising to think how quickly he’d gone from hating it to thinking of ways to use it, but he’d always been a little rash in his decision making. Oh well. He was sure no one would be able to thwart every single one of his plans anyhow, even if they were annoying, friendly telepaths.

“We’ll talk about the army later. Right now we need to stop Charles from destroying the world. We have—”

_I’m telling you, you’ll need to go back into the past. Even now it’s been implanted into him and it’s probably set roots so deep nothing you do will matter. You need to stop it before it happens._

“We don’t have much time, so we’ll call Azazel and ask him to transport us today. Hopefully we can deal with this today and be back in time to find at least one more mutant.”

_Fool. No wonder Charles beat me in chess so many times in my youth._

“Great plan, _Magneto_. So what, you’re just going to march up to Charles’ gates and ask him if he wants to talk? Maybe get all buddy-buddy with you so you can betray him again?”

Ouch. Raven’s sarcastic voice and the roll of her eyes stung. Even so, Erik was confident that Charles would see him if the voice in his head gave him something convincing to say. He wouldn’t be taking his helmet off in case Charles caught a glimpse of his plans with Asteroid M, but they both knew no one had the powers to see clearly into the future. At least, no one that they knew of. And now that he was thinking of it, there was one other thing that could guarantee an audience with the man. Raven caught his smirk and shook her head.

“No way. No. I refuse.”

Charles wouldn’t give up a chance to see how his childhood friend was doing, even if Erik went with her. Raven was still shaking her head in denial as Erik went to the phone on his nightstand and began punching in Azazel’s number.

**ღ*~*** **ღ*~*** **ღ**

In the end, despite her protests, Raven came along, if only to say ‘I told you so’ to Erik. Azazel transported Erik and Raven to the front gate of the X-Mansion and then settled in to wait beside the fence, his tail flicking with a nervous kind of energy. After all, no one was quite sure exactly what to expect from Erik’s old friend. Raven was the first to go ring the gate’s intercom, rolling her eyes at the tension in Erik’s shoulders. He hadn’t seen Charles in three years. Much as he claimed to loathe the man and everything he stood for, he was slightly excited. Emphasis on the slightly.

“Charles, it’s Raven. I… we… need to talk to you.”

For a few moments, all they could hear was the crackle of static on the other end and Erik felt his hopes begin to drop. He didn’t know what exactly he’d expected. A part of him had been hoping Charles would think they were there to rejoin him, and that the thought would put a smile on the telepath’s face. Despite the fact that he would’ve had to tell Charles the real reason they were there, he was curious what Charles’ reaction would be if the man thought Erik would join him again.

“If you want to talk, take off the headband.”

The bitterness and rasp in Charles’ voice floored Erik. Last time they’d been together, Charles had been angry, but there had been a passionate heat behind the anger that showed he truly cared. Now his voice sounded half-broken, empty of passion and resolve with traces of a sarcastic self-loathing. Erik’s fists involuntarily clenched as he drew in a slight breath. Whatever their differences, Erik now felt he needed to see Charles to confirm something within himself. The voice inside of his head was strangely silent, but he could feel an emanation of some emotion that felt like a mixture of sadness, regret, and nostalgia. Erik stepped forward, nodding for Raven to move, and he pressed the intercom himself.

“You know we can’t do that, Charles.”

They heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end, and Erik wondered if his voice affected Charles as much as the telepath’s had affected him. The silence stretched even longer this time, before Charles replied in a shaky, breathless voice.

“Why are you here, Erik?”

There was too much history between them; Erik couldn’t do this. He wanted to run from the sudden rush of guilt and shame as he wet his lips nervously with his tongue, his finger hovering indecisively over the button. It was easy to hate Charles when the man was a million miles away, but it was entirely different matter when his ex-friend was talking to him and sitting close enough for Erik to close the gap in a minute’s walk.

_But you must, and you will. This isn’t about you. It’s about him and it’s about mutants everywhere. Press the button, Erik._

He wasn’t entirely sure whether it was his own internal voice or the voice from his future, but he steeled himself and pressed the button again.

“Like Raven said, we need to talk. It involves the entire mutant race. This time it’s bigger than you and me, old friend.”

The last two words slipped out as easily as a breath of wind, and Erik wished it was as easy to reach out and grab them to put them back in his mouth. But it wasn’t, and he heard a washed out, acrimonious laugh crackle through the small speaker.

“Old friend? You must be kidding me, Erik. I don’t recall us becoming friends again in the time we’ve been separated. The person who said absence makes the heart grow fonder has obviously never met you.”

Strangely enough, the snark and hostility lacing Charles’ voice made Erik feel a little better. The first time Charles had spoken, the words had been so empty Erik was afraid there was nothing human left inside the paraplegic’s body. Nothing but a broken husk on a cold, metal chair. At least hatred and blame was better than that.

“We don’t have the time for this. I assure you, you can insult me all you want later, but right now we have to deal with something that affects us both mutually.”

_The mutant’s name is Kitty Pryde. He should’ve recruited her recently._

“My consciousness from the future was sent back to warn me about the end of the world, and it involves you. You just recruited a girl… Kitty Pryde? She sent him... me. I—Charles, this isn’t a conversation we should be having through an intercom.”

There was a derisive snort from the other end.

“Do you honestly believe throwing Kitty’s name around will change my mind, or did you come here to brag about the spies you have in my school?”

Erik lowered his head in frustration; he couldn’t take his helmet off in case Charles found out his plans, but he couldn’t think of a way to convince the man otherwise. Why was this so hard? He’d forgotten what a truly bad place they’d left off at. His head lifted just a fraction as the voice in his head spoke softly, whispering a name. A name Charles had only told him after years of trust, and a name with no real meaning attached because Charles hadn’t been able to bring himself to speak about whatever it was the name meant to him. Whether it was a family member, a lover, an enemy, or a friend, even future Erik didn’t know. All he knew was that he was the only one Charles had told the name to.

“The me from the future told me to ask you about…”

Erik hesitated, worried about the uncertainty and discomfiture radiating from his other consciousness in waves. Whoever it was, Charles had made one thing abundantly clear in the future; the name wasn’t, under any circumstances, to be brought up. He’d apparently only brought it up in the first place because he’d fallen asleep at the chessboard after a particularly long night and he’d muttered it during the unease of a nightmare. When future Erik had asked, Charles had brushed it off, and it was only a few years later when Charles mentioned that it was someone he’d once known.

“…Cain.”

The sound that came from the other end, just for a second, was a veritable whimper. It was quickly stifled, but Erik’s eyebrows shot up and he felt his other consciousness recoil in shock. Never, not even when the bullet he’d deflected landed in Charles’ spine, had he ever heard Charles make such a fearful, pained noise. For a second he forgot everything—the wheelchair, the bitter fighting, the foolish ideals—and he just wanted to find his friend to comfort him. The old protectiveness of Charles’ innocence and bright, sincere eyes was still there, even if it was buried under old scars.

“Charles?”

His voice was low and crackling with worry. Whoever this Cain was, it was now clear that he wasn’t anyone Charles had loved or probably even remotely liked. Erik instantly felt like he’d slaughter the mystery man if he’d ever done anything to hurt Charles. He heard a deep inhalation from the other end, and then the intercom went completely silent. Charles was gone.

“Charles!”

Erik banged on the gate with his fist, wanting to tear it off its hinges. If he did though, the school held enough mutants to put up quite a fight and he didn’t want to risk injuring himself, Raven, or Azazel.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know who this person is, but I won’t mention him again!”

He was yelling through the gate now, even if he knew Charles couldn’t hear him. So that was it then? His one shot had failed?

_No, it hasn’t. Charles isn’t that stupid. Look._

Erik looked up and was shocked to see the gate creaking open. He glanced over at Raven, who looked confused and still a little shell-shocked about the sound Charles had made, as she mouthed, ‘ _Cain_?’ Erik shrugged and locked eyes with Azazel, who nodded slowly. He would wait, and he wouldn’t take off the headband despite the fact that he hated it.

Raven and Erik, meanwhile, made their way into the grounds. There was nobody outside, but when they shoved open the rich, expansive doors, the mansion bloomed with laughter and a happy, warm atmosphere that made Erik wonder if Charles’ sorrow had even existed. How could someone be grave in a place like this? Two girls played in a corner, one lighting tiny fireballs while the other put them out with water and giggled. A young man ran by them with a whoosh of wind as a friend shot small lightning bolts at him to see if he could dodge faster than the speed of light. Erik could hear footsteps but he couldn’t see anyone close, so one of the students must be invisible. A book floated by Raven’s head and she stepped out of the way as it landed in the hands of a shy-looking boy, who quickly bowed his head turned to leave the room. Erik could’ve swore he glimpsed a pair of large, feathery white wings disappear around the corner down the hall.

All in all, the haven Charles had created for mutants seemed like quite the lovely place. Everyone looked relaxed and content, with none of the wild-eyed fear many mutants held due to hiding their powers from normal humans. If only the entire world could be this safe for mutants, Erik wouldn’t have to worry about eradicating humans. In that case, he’d also probably still be by Charles’ side. A frown touched his lips; all it did was serve as a grim reminder that the world would be a better place without humans.

“Erik. Raven.”

The greeting was hesitant and nervous, as Erik turned to the gruff, attractive young man he’d come to be acquainted with during his time with Charles. Beside Alex Summers, a familiar redhead stood with his shoulders hunched as if he really didn’t want to be there. A glance at Raven told Erik she was feeling even more nostalgic than him; she’d been good friends with Sean and Alex before the divide, and she’d known them much better than Erik had.

“Are you guys here to take us to Charles?”

Erik let Raven do the talking as his eyes kept flickering around, drawn to objects that kissed faint memories within his mind. A painting he and Charles had once laughed at of Charles’ grandfather, the rack they’d used to hang their coats on after a hard day of training, the fancy staircase that was a chore to climb after running all day. Besides the students roaming and chattering throughout the building, not very much had changed.

He was almost left behind as Raven and the two young men walked on ahead, making painfully awkward small talk. What did you say to someone who had once been a friend and was now more or less an enemy? It was something Erik certainly needed to think on too, and he felt the walk was much too short because soon his reminiscing was over and he was standing outside Charles’ study.

_This will be painful. There’s really no tips I can give you after all you’ve… we’ve… done to Charles._

Erik muttered a sarcastic thanks under his breath hotly, earning him odd looks from Alex and Sean. But then the looks faded into looks of apprehension, and Erik realized he wasn’t the only one who was worried about the meeting. From what he’d seen and heard, he didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that they were worried his presence would ruin their professor’s mentality again. Nevertheless, they shoved open the doors and Erik stepped through into a study populated by one furry blue beast and one small, wavering man in a wheelchair.

Two things shocked Erik when he first walked in. The first was Charles’ appearance. Though the professor’s outward cosmetic appearance and hygiene weren’t bad, he was gaunt in every sense of the word. His clothes, which would’ve been neat, hung off of him like robes, and they made him seem small and childish within the wheelchair. His face was thin and Erik would almost go so far as to say skeletal; his beautiful blue eyes looked too big for his face and his mouth was stretched in what seemed a perpetual grimace. But that wasn’t the worst of it; the worst was the expression in his eyes. It was haunted by a great deal of things, and there was so much pain both physical and psychological floating through his eyes that one could probably swim in it. Even if his words had been heated, those weren’t the eyes of a man ready to argue and yell. They were the eyes of a man on the brink of immortal exhaustion, red-rimmed with the fatigue of holding together just long enough to make it through one more day.

Yes, that was the first thing that shocked Erik. The second was a heavy crystal glass that shattered just beside his head with a force enough to leave a large tear in the fancy wallpaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it possible to turn this into a romance? Yes, yes it is. We just need time and thousands upon thousands of words.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying so far! :D


	3. Stand Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of mixing First Class backgrounds with comic backgrounds in this one, which is why the ages and stories may seem a little wonky. Also, I'm in love with Scott being a protective older brother to Alex. I swear I could write an entire fanfic of their background and Scott just being a total mom-like person whenever Alex is around.  
> P.S.-expect Easter eggs on Easter. Very sinister Easter eggs.

“ **How did we get here?**

**When I used to know you so well?**

**How did we get here?**

**Well, I think I know.** ”

―Paramore

.ღ.¸¸.•*¨*•ƸӜƷ•*¨*•.¸¸.ღ.

“How did you know?”

Erik blinked in shock, glancing behind him at the torn, stained wallpaper before turning back to give Charles an incredulous look, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Charles was trembling, and his face kept pulling back in an almost-grimace of pain before he seemed to remember himself and it settled down again. His eyes kept flickering to then away from Erik’s face, as if he couldn’t stand to look him in the eye.

“Cain. Did you dig into my past? Meet someone I used to know? How did you find out?”

Leather creaked as Charles dug his hands into the chair and leaned forward. Forward more and more until he… he stood up. Erik’s expression went from defensively shocked to just plain shocked, and as much as he wanted to try to get some sort of sentence out, the sight of the man he’d put in a wheelchair standing up was too much.

_It’s a serum Hank developed. Charles must’ve taken it before we came in. There’s no need to worry about his powers now; he can’t use them when he’s taken the serum._

“You trade your powers for a little walking time?”

Erik forgot that he was there to save Charles and the mutant world, forgot that Charles was yelling at him and that a glass had just smashed besides his head. Before his mind had even caught up, his body had taken over and he closed the space between him and Charles in two quick strides, grabbing the telepath by the front of the shirt and turning to slam him against the wall. He barely noticed as Raven stepped forward and Hank shook his head at her, while Sean and Alex watched the scene curiously. None of the mutants who had stayed with Charles showed any sign of even wanting to stop Erik; they seemed more interested in how Charles would react.

“You have this incredible gift that’s greater than anything anyone could dream of, and you want to get rid of it to _walk_? Charles, what you have is so much more than walking! It makes _you_ so much more, and you’re willing to get rid of it for something as trivial as _walking_? What the _hell_ is wrong with you?”

With every question, Erik shook Charles so his head thumped lightly against the wall, as his voice rose more and more in volume. When he was done, his breath had quickened and some of the metal trinkets on Charles’ desk were rattling. It was much more than his anger at Charles though; deep down, he knew it was because he was guilty Charles even had to choose. Still, the fact that Charles would give up the extraordinary to become more ordinary upset him beyond belief.

“You think it’s just that? You think it’s…”

Charles chuckled darkly, his hands still hanging limply at his sides; he hadn’t even tried to free himself from Erik’s grip.

“Oh, my friend, you have no idea.”

The way his mouth twisted sardonically on the word friend made Erik’s vision go red, and before he was able to stop himself he found his fist meeting Charles’ jaw, sending the scrawny man sprawling.

_Calm yourself! Remember why we’re here!_

Erik froze at the voice and drew in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. His rage was quick to grow but even quicker to subside, and now he could feel the regret beginning to set in. But before he could apologize, Charles’ fist slammed into his jaw and then they were in an all-out brawl. His anger fueled him and he completely disregarded the voice yelling at him, as he swung back into Charles’ mouth. Teeth opened a large cut on his fist and he drew it back with a curse, then Charles tackled him to the ground. Luckily for him, Charles was light, so he was able to get the upper hand and flip so they landed sideways, both of them trying to throw punches.

“You’re a mutant! Quit trying to be a human!”

A hard jab landed on Charles’ cheek, and he let out a low grunt.

“It’s not about being human, it’s about having a basic human function.”

Charles knocked the side of Erik’s nose so hard it began to bleed.

“You’re a fool, always such a fool, with your naïve views and idiotic way of seeing the world!”

Erik flipped Charles over and straddled him, smoking him in the opposite cheek from the last time.

“You don’t understand anything at all. You have these fantastic powers, moving metal, and _that’s_ a gift. But me? My powers are a _curse_.”

Charles spat a wad of blood onto Erik’s face, reaching up to try and shove his face to the side to get him off.

“You have the chance to be something better and you just want to throw it away! You and I could have the world, Charles, but _you don’t want it_.”

Erik finally managed to slam Charles’ hand down, and now he was throwing punch after punch, his face contorted in anger as blood began to speckle his face and hands. He kept punching over and over, even as tears began to blur his eyes from the low moans of pain coming from Charles’ lips. He didn’t want to hurt Charles, but he couldn’t stop. Someone needed to drag him off, but no one was. He could hear quiet sobs coming from Raven’s direction, but she didn’t move and none of the other guys made any attempt to grab him.

“You have… no idea… what you’ve… done… to me…”

Charles’ weak voice stopped Erik. His fist hovered above Charles’ ruined face, his teeth clenched in anger and pain as he waited. They’d needed to have this conversation since the beginning, but neither of them had been willing to speak. Charles reached up to wipe some of the blood coming from his nose, smearing it across his face as he finally looked Erik straight in the eye.

“You and Raven left… I couldn’t walk… I had to erase Moira’s memories… and this mind reading thing… when I held Shaw for you… I felt _everything_.”

Erik’s fist dropped as he remembered the coin slicing through Shaw’s head on the beach. He’d felt triumphant, and he’d been sure the pain of the coin slowly separating pieces of brain would be wonderful for an excruciating revenge. He hadn’t even thought that Charles would be able to feel it. His chest felt tight, as if he were trying to breathe through a straw. Charles had felt the pain of his revenge, the one he’d reserved especially for his worst enemy, who’d tortured innocent people in war camps.

“I didn’t know. If I would’ve known…”

Charles looked away bitterly, shaking his head slightly and wincing.

“You would’ve done the same thing. I know how much it meant to you, which is why I held him even then. I can assure you of one thing, Erik; Shaw did suffer.”

It hurt more than any blow, and Erik pressed his lips together tightly in shame, rolling off of Charles to lay beside him, panting slightly from the punches he’d thrown.

“Even so… I’m truly sorry. If you could read my mind, you’d know how sorry I was.”

Charles only nodded miserably while Hank stepped forward and offered Charles a hand up, while Sean reached down to help Erik. When they were both on their feet—it was still strange to see Charles that way—Charles let out the tiniest of sighs and exchanged a meaningful glance with Hank. Hank hesitated, glancing at Erik, then nodded.

“I guess we should give these two some time to catch up.”

Everyone was hesitant to leave, especially Raven, but at Hank’s insistence the room was soon cleared. Charles’ sigh was larger this time as he walked past his wheelchair to throw himself into a large chair with a groan, reaching over to his desk to pour himself a drink of what looked like alcohol.

“It’s apple juice, in case you’re wondering. I haven’t indulged in few months. But we have more to talk about then my indulgences it seems, so you can take a seat.”

The only place to sit was in Charles’ wheelchair, so after raising a wary eyebrow at Charles and receiving a nod in return, Erik took a seat in it. It was comfortable enough, but it wasn’t the kind of seat you’d want to sit in all day and lounge in. If one had any feeling in their lower extremities, the decisive hardness of the seat would eventually make them sore.

“I do have a great deal I need to speak with you about—and we will speak—but first I need to know the answer to my original question. How did you know about Cain?”

Erik slowly relaxed into the wheelchair, meeting Charles eyes and giving him what he hoped was his most sincere look.

“When I said my consciousness from the future was sent back, I wasn’t lying. He said you mentioned Cain, but I honestly don’t know anything more than that.”

Charles searched Erik’s eyes for a second before letting out a small nod, taking a greedy gulp of his apple juice and frowning as if he were wishing it were alcohol.

“Cain is… was… my brother.”

_Brother?_

The voice in Erik’s head sounded every bit as surprised as Erik felt. He’d had no idea Charles had any siblings; he’d been living under the assumption that Charles was an only child, spoiled rotten in this large, richly decorated house. It would certainly explain his pacifistic behaviour; a rich, sheltered boy who knew nothing of pain wouldn’t be able to consider hurting others as an option. Charles noticed Erik’s look and glanced away, his eyes roaming the bookshelves lining the wall restlessly.

“He… passed away. Before I met Raven. It’s not something I care to bring up, and I’d appreciate it if you never mentioned the name again. Since you know it, I’ll tentatively believe you about the consciousness in your head. Now I’d like to move on before you start asking questions, so tell me about this ‘end of the world’ thing.”

It was extremely abrupt, and Charles’ voice hinted at a million things left unspoken, but Erik had to remind himself that he wasn’t here to be Charles’ friend, and that soon they’d go their separate ways again. For now, it was time to talk business.

_You may be staying longer than you thought. Charles needs his powers to search that deep inside himself, so you’ll have to wait until he gets them back. Even if he does, however, I’m sure you’ll have to find Kitty; it’s already too late. You’re wasting time for nothing._

Erik rolled his eyes, earning him an offended glare from Charles.

“It’s not you. It’s the voice in my head—it insists I need to be sent even further back in time by this ‘Kitty Pryde’ to stop it.”

Erik leaned over to grab a Kleenex and hold it at his nose, hiding a slight smirk when Charles simply smeared even more blood across his face with the sleeve of his shirt. If they were on better terms, they might be laughing about how horrible they looked right now. Charles’ cheeks were already beginning to shine with a purplish hue, and his nose looked slightly crooked over his split lip. Erik figured he looked better than Charles but not by much; his own nose hurt like a bitch and Charles’ right hook to his jaw was certainly going to leave a nice bruise. It wasn’t exactly a ‘you should see the other guy’ kind of fight, considering how battered they both looked.

“Stop what?”

Charles frowned as he dabbed at his nose to try to stop the bleeding, and Erik couldn’t help but find it funny how Charles’ nose kept wrinkling from the coppery taste of blood, then he’d wince because wrinkling his nose hurt. But he kept doing it anyway, and it was like this hilarious cycle of annoyed faces because the more Charles did it, the angrier he seemed to be getting with himself. Erik tried as hard as he could, but before he could answer Charles seriously a snort burst through his lips and he burst into laughter. Charles crossed his arms sulkily, his look wary.

“What’s so funny?”

Erik tried to hold his nose to stop it from shaking because the laughter was killing him, but it only served to make it hurt more, so he let go and laughed until there were tears of pain streaming down his face.

“You look like complete and utter shit.”

Charles seemed like he couldn’t decide whether to be affronted or amused by Erik’s statement, but apparently amusement won out because he took one look at Erik’s pain-filled, laughing face and a laughter bubbled past his own lips. And then the two ex-friends who hadn’t grinned together in six years were suddenly in stitches over the pain the laughter was bringing, and they were howling with a morbid glee. Much as they tried to stop, every time they looked at each other they couldn’t help but laugh again until Erik was gasping and clutching his stomach and Charles was coughing specks of blood all over the gorgeous, lush floor.

“We could’ve been great together.”

Erik’s simple sentence made the laughter die away, but both men felt all the better for it; neither of them had laughed so hard in ages, and this laughter was so beautiful that it was almost cathartic. Charles grabbed a Kleenex and held it over his nose, his head bobbing in agreement as he spoke through the stuffiness of a plugged nose.

“I can’t argue that point. If you would’ve come with me and stayed by my side to help all these kids, we could’ve done a lot of good.”

The amount of faith Charles still had in Erik was staggering; he honestly believed Erik would make a good role model, despite all he’d done.

_If it weren’t for the impending doom hanging over Charles’ head, you would’ve eventually gotten your wish. In the future, we stood together._

Imagining Charles by his side was extremely difficult at that point in time; they were as far from similar as two men could be. But now that Erik thought about it, he was rather grateful for that. If Charles shared his anger and ideals, it could only be because Charles had gone through hell as a child, so maybe the fact that Charles was so gentle (towards other people; Charles didn’t seem to be feeling his gentlest towards Erik) was a good thing. Charles leaned forward, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“What are you thinking?”

It startled Erik out of his reverie, and he blinked a couple of times, wondering if he should tell the telepath the truth. But honestly, now that they’d laughed together, he didn’t want to clam up and ruin what little connection the hysterics had formed between them.

“I was thinking I’m grateful that you grew up happy.”

Charles leaned back and chuckled darkly under his breath, shaking his head as if marvelling at Erik’s words.

“My friend, I fear I may have somehow disillusioned you.”

This time, there was no twist on the word friend, and Erik felt his heart grow that much lighter. Charles’ eyes were still wounded, but now they didn’t seem as irreparable as they once had. Erik wanted to question Charles further, because he could hear the same strange un-Charles-like tone in his friend’s voice, but then the man plowed ahead.

“We seem to keep getting off topic. Shall we talk over a game of chess?”

“Even if you had me locked up and we became enemies such that our bond was broken beyond repair, I would still agree to play chess with you.”

There was a small snicker in his head when he said ‘locked up,’ but he ignored it and wheeled Charles’ wheelchair up to the chessboard, shifting to try to make himself more comfortable. There was nothing else to do anyway, seeing as how Erik needed to wait for the serum to wear off.  

Charles set up the board and they began to play, easily settling into their old rhythm as Erik told Charles everything the voice in his head had said about the impending apocalypse, which truthfully wasn’t all that much. Even when he tried to question his future self more, the voice remained strangely quiet and contemplative, only saying that he couldn’t tell Erik anything with any real certainty. Charles listened patiently as they played, not saying a word until Erik had finished speaking.

“A voice in your head tells you to find Kitty Pryde and go back in time, so you come find me and pick a fight? In that case, it’s obvious you _can’t_ be lying.”

Charles smile was small, but Erik felt like he’d just won an internal victory. He laughed a little himself, then backed Charles’ king into a corner and finished the game with a swift victory. Charles definitely wasn’t at his best; chess could tell you a lot about a man’s mental state, and Charles’ was shaky at best.

“Believe what you want—we’ll find out soon enough. How long does it take for the serum to wear off?”

Charles glanced down at an expensive-looking watch adorning his wrist, and he grimaced slightly as if what he saw pained him.

“I took a diluted form, so it should wear off in an hour or so. Until then… well, I already know you have spies, so I doubt I’ll be showing you anything you don’t already know. But if you’d like, I can show you the institute.”

Charles voice was gruff and hesitant, and in it Erik could hear the fact that he still wasn’t forgiven. It wasn’t like he expected to be; the bond they’d had was shattered beyond return and he doubted anything could change that. Still, after the semi-pleasant time they’d had playing chess, a small ache of pain had wormed its way into Erik’s heart and was now nesting there, growing with each baleful look Charles shot him. They had an uneasy truce for now, but their bond was still a crumbled wasteland filled with mines. Erik wasn’t quite sure where they were, or what he’d be getting into if he tried to venture into deeper territory.

“Alright. I’m sure the place had improved since I’ve last been here.”

His answer was a cautious joke, a toe into lukewarm water. The look Charles gave him was more tired than anything as he rose from his seat, and Erik let out a small breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he stood from Charles’ wheelchair. Logically he’d known that his legs worked, but sitting in a chair still warm from the body of someone who would never walk again without the aid of a serum was slightly unsettling.

He followed Charles out into the hallway, looking around more this time. Hank, Raven, Alex, and Sean were gathered at the foot of the stairs when Erik and Charles reached them, and Erik was secretly pleased to see the fact that Hank was making Raven laugh. He’d been worried this place might make her lose her easy smile, but if anything, she was smiling even more. The four of them looked up when they saw Charles and Erik, and everyone immediately grew serious, sensing the tension between the men.

“I’m showing Erik around. Raven, would you care to join us?”

Raven nodded a little, then her nod grew more vigorous and she ran up to Charles, throwing her arms around him and burying her face into his neck with a small ‘I’m sorry.’ No one had to be a mind reader to know she was sorry for the pain he was in, not for leaving. Even through everything, Erik had never once heard her say she regretted leaving Charles.

Charles froze up in her hug, then wrapped his arms around her lightly, patting her back as if it were the hug of an acquaintance rather than a childhood friend. Everything was so brittle between Erik’s group and Charles’ group. Raven stepped back and looked away, but Erik could see that the hug had broken her. He was sure that if he wrapped his arms around the gaunt man, he’d find that Charles had lost a ton of weight, and he wasn’t prepared for feeling his friend’s ribs through the baggy clothes.

“Professor X, I gotta say that you look a little more fucked up than Magneto.”

Alex’s voice had a strained amusement in it, as if he were trying to lighten up the mood. Everyone looked at him blankly and he shifted uncomfortably, unused to being the center of attention. He looked as if he were about to leave, when suddenly an arm draped around his shoulder and a taller boy stepped off the stairs, his eyebrow raised at the uneasy blond.

“Language, Alex.”

It was strange to see a kid wearing what looked like some sort of ruby tinted sunglasses in the house, but Erik assumed it must have something to do with his powers. The voice inside his head made a happy, sentimental sound as if he recognized the man.

_That’s Alex’s older brother, Scott Summers. He’ll eventually become like a son to Charles if he isn’t already, and he’s supposed to become the leader of this institute when Charles passes on. He’s in love with Charles’ pupil, Jean Grey._

Having a voice in your head that knew exactly what was going on was the best in times like these. Erik watched Charles’ face smooth at the sight of Scott, and for a second he felt a pang of jealousy. It was ridiculous, feeling jealous of a kid who couldn’t be older than nineteen, but he wanted to be the one who could make Charles calm down.

“Magneto?”

Scott’s voice was curious and slightly guarded, and it didn’t escape Erik’s notice when Scott unconsciously pushed Alex behind him. Erik inclined his head in confirmation, and Scott frowned, looking back and forth between him and Charles.

“Professor X, if you want me to…”

He trailed off, but the grim look on his face left nothing to the imagination. Whatever his powers were, at one word from Charles, he would use them to get Erik off of the property. For a split second, when Charles glanced at him with a thoughtful half-smirk, Erik though he would actually agree and let Scott try to move him. But then Charles shook his head and the tension faded from Scott’s shoulders slightly, though he still looked on guard. Erik couldn’t blame him too much; the bruises and blood on him and Charles were now attracting a lot of attention.

“Erik, I’d like you to meet Alex’s older brother. He was in an orphanage under an abusive geneticist named Nathaniel Essex. Remember the Apocalypse fiasco?”

Apocalypse. How could he forget something like that? That had been three years ago, when he’d last spoken with Charles. Things had gotten so out of hand that even he had to step in to help Charles and his mutants stop Apocalypse and his horsemen. Alex had been kidnapped and experimented on, and even Erik couldn’t stand the thought of a fifteen year old kid going through all of that.

“When we were looking for Alex, we found out about Scott. After we got Alex back and the whole thing was over, we went and found them. Brothers reunited, powers controlled, happy ending for all.”

He could tell from Charles’ voice that this was something he was particularly proud of—and rightfully so, it seemed. He didn’t know how it worked, but his ‘mutant instinct’ told him that this Scott person was strong. If he was anywhere near as strong as Alex, Erik would have to gather more Acolytes than he’d previously thought, depending on how big the Brotherhood Raven was gathering was.

“That’s inspiring, Charles. I’m glad Alex could find his older brother.”

Erik truly meant it; he wished Sean, Alex, and Hank all the best, because he’d respected them all and thought they were good kids back when he’d been a part of Charles’ group, despite the fact that Alex and Sean had only been fourteen back then, and Hank had been eighteen. Even so, if Charles thought telling him these fuzzy, heart-warming stories would change him, he was absolutely wrong. What Charles did was nice, but what Erik did was even better; teach them to fight war so that humans wouldn’t be able to hurt them. Brother would never be separated from brother again, and it would be easier to deal with things like Apocalypse.

“Don’t tell me we have another impending doom hanging over us, Professor.”

The voice was lighthearted and shy, but with just the right amount of bravery to get attention. Before Erik even turned, Scott’s telltale blush told him it was the aforementioned Jean Grey.

_Jean will grow up to be extremely powerful and a good woman, but right now you shouldn’t trust her. She’s also a telepath, though not as strong as Charles._

Erik secured his helmet around his head more snugly with a tiny wave of his hand so that no one could catch it, then he turned to see a pretty young woman with eyes the colour of the topmost layer of the ocean and hair almost as red as Charles’ blood. Another telepath—he’d have to remember her for future reference. He barely listened as Charles filled her and the others in on what was going on; he was preoccupied with wondering if Azazel would be stupid enough to remove the headband or not. At some point or another, a whole bunch of mutants had gathered around and Charles had become more animated. He could see that this was good for Charles—the young, bright faces, the mutants who had hope for the future, the way their eyes sparkled with respect when they looked at him. It transformed Charles from the gaunt, hollow thing he’d seen when he first walked in to a vivid, expressive teacher, and for that he could thank each and every mutant there.

He was about to fade out of the crowd, because he honestly felt like he didn’t belong there, when he caught the slightest tremble in one of Charles’ legs. He glanced around, his eyes searching the walls, until he caught sight of a clock. It must’ve been nearly an hour. He didn’t want to make Charles uncomfortable, but his protectiveness kicked in and he stepped forward just in time to catch Charles when the man’s legs gave out, and he slung one arm over his shoulder, hefting the telepath up.

“I can—”

“I’ve got him.”

Erik cut Scott off sharply, and the majority of the students backed away as Hank muttered something about grabbing Charles’ wheelchair and left. Sean, who’d been making plans to go out flying with some mutant who had feathery white wings, stepped forward and took Charles’ other arm, while the professor’s face fell and suddenly he looked broken again. The students had to have noticed the look, yet they all stood around as if in silent support. Charles was more than just their respected teacher, Erik realized; he was their hero. He could do no wrong in their eyes, even if he was wasting away and looked like a shadow of his former self.

“Can everybody please give us some room?”

Charles voice was strained, and everyone instantly left the room save the crew Raven had been hanging out with, Scott, Jean, and Erik. Charles closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and Jean stepped forward to rest one hand on his cheek with a piteous shake of her head. It must’ve been tough, Erik realized, to go from absolute peace and quiet to hearing everyone’s thoughts again. Although it seemed like Jean could repress them somewhat.

“You’re right, Erik. I can feel something within me.”

Charles closed his eyes, sounding confused, and Erik gave him a sidelong glance while Jean narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Everyone else watched curiously as Charles’ eyes pressed together even tighter and he shook his head, biting down on his lower lip in concentration.

“It’s deep, but if I dig just a little more, I think I can—”

Charles’ eyes flew open, Jean dropped her hand with a scream, and then it seemed the entire world exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love cliffhangers. I apologize.  
> In other news, I'm going to crap Marvel Easter eggs all over this story soon so if you've watched the Avengers or really any Marvel movie, expect funny little things to pop up.


	4. To Give a Marionette Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to get darker from here on out, but I don't think anything will be as dark as this chapter and the chapter after this (which, sadly, will be even darker than this one). Sorry there's no Charles in this one, but you may thank me for sparing you that pain when you see what's happened to him in the next chapter. ;-;

“ **It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace**.”

― Chuck Palahniuk

.ღ.¸¸.•*¨*•ƸӜƷ•*¨*•.¸¸.ღ.

“—eto. Magneto!”

Erik sat up slowly, surprised to find that he was back in his old body; he’d been becoming used to his thirty two year old body and being nothing more than a consciousness. Yet here he was, back in the future, with…

“Pietro?”

Erik blinked blearily and looked around, wondering where exactly in the future he was. The last thing he remembered was the shock of an explosion, a flash of pain, and then… nothing. He knew he’d been in Charles’ mansion both in his thirty two year old body and his seventy two year old body. Yet now, back in his old, graying body, he was as far from Charles’ mansion as he could possibly be. In fact, he wasn’t even in the same world as the institute—he was on the latest carnation of Asteroid M, which was actually on an asteroid.

“What’s going on?”

_I’d like to know as well._

Erik started at the voice in his head, immediately recognizing the mind touching his; it was the mind he’d been living in only moments before. It made absolutely no sense; why would his young mind be here with him in the future? He could feel an angry confusion radiating from his younger self, horrified at the prospect of possibly being trapped inside an old man’s head with no recollection of more than half of his life. His younger self wasn’t the only one; he was wondering where in the hell forty years had gone and just what had happened. He turned to Pietro, and though his first-in-command should’ve looked old because he was almost sixty, his eyes were etched with a tiredness that aged him a hundred years.

“We noticed brain activity happening so I thought I might try and wake you up. Not that it’ll do much good now.”

Pietro sat in a ragged-looking chair beside Erik’s bed, bowing his head to rest it on top of his fists. He was so still Erik couldn’t help but wonder if he had turned into a statue. But then he looked up again, his head moving slowly as if every movement took some of his soul’s energy. His smile was mirthless and empty, with none of the usual easy humour and amusement with life. Ever since he’d gone back in time, it seemed there was nothing but broken people everywhere he turned.

“Pietro, what happened? Why aren’t we on Earth?”

“You shouldn’t have gone back in time. Jean read everything in your mind before things got out of hand. Much as we all hate to say it, you should’ve just let Professor X die.”

Pietro stood up and made as if to pace, but after one pass across the room it seemed gravity tugged at him and he went back to slump into the chair, letting out a sigh so world weary it reminded Erik of people from the concentration camps.

“There aren’t so many people left now. Mutants or humans. Jean is gone, so is Emma. Professor X took the telepaths out first. Raven was next, then Scott. A guy named Bruce Barlow or Barrie or Banner—something like that—tried his hand, but that didn’t work. After them, most of the humans were eradicated right away. Stark Industries and S.H.I.E.L.D. evacuated everyone they could up here. We’ve tried everything but…”

Pietro shook his head bitterly, digging one hand into the other until his knuckles were white.

“Jean Grey. Emma Frost. Raven Darkhölme. Bruce Banner. Steve Rogers. Phil Coulson. Warren Worthington III. Pepper Potts. Loki Odinson. Peter Parker. Nick Fury. Jemma Simmons. Jubilation Lee. Marie D'Ancanto. Ororo Munroe. Reed Richards. Ben Grimm. Groot. Rocket Racoon. Wade Wilson. Matthew Murdock. Stephen Vincent Stra—”

“Stop!”

Erik’s voice was hoarse and sharp as it cut through air with a dry rasp, his hands trembling in fists on his covers. Pietro nodded slowly, looking worn out. Erik didn’t know every one of the people being named, but he’d heard the majority of the names and he knew they were all incredible heroes. Besides, if Pietro named one more name from Charles’ institute or Erik’s Acolytes, Erik felt his heart would break into millions of pieces. How could going back into the past and changing one small thing lead to _this_?

“All of those people… they’re all… Charles…”

Pietro shuddered, pressing one hand against his temple as if his head was beginning to pound.

“Not all him. After that… that _thing_ took over, he was joined by eight other things. Four women and four men. They called themselves the Exemplars. Under the professor’s orders, they created some sort of machine to allow them to manifest their true powers. Something was possessing all of them and when they built that machine, the things possessing them took over completely. I heard they wanted to fight each other to see who was the strongest, but Professor X stopped them and told them they should take the universe first. Since then, we’ve been trying, but they already have Earth and a bunch more planets besides. Everyone’s about ready to give up. Star-Lord is trying to rally everyone, but too many people have died.”

The speech seemed to kill Pietro, whose silver eyelashes lowered as if all he wanted was to give up and go to sleep.

_No. No that can’t be right. Charles would never do that, and S.H.I.E.L.D. is too strong. There’s no way nine people could destroy an entire universe._

Erik shared his past self’s sentiments. Yet Pietro had always been extremely loyal, and though he loved to play jokes, he wasn’t a good enough actor to pull off something this morbid and heartbreaking. Erik watched as shoulders began to quiver and then suddenly the laughing, joking man was weeping openly, his dignity and pride meaningless in the face of the tragedies he’d suffered.

“I’ve been out for forty years?”

Pietro nodded, wiping at his eyes as he spoke in a stilted whisper of a voice.

“The thing in Professor X is stronger than any mutant we’ve ever seen. It can use all of the powers he could, plus some that were supposed to remain latent in him. The level of power really messed up his body, but since he isn’t home anymore I guess it doesn’t matter. That thing keeps tearing his body apart and rebuilding it again. Anyway, I guess it didn’t want Professor X fighting back, because it killed everyone close to him first, and it put you in a coma. We didn’t think you’d wake up, but we brought you anyway.”

The whole thing sounded like a nightmare even Erik couldn’t dream up. He needed to see it for himself, look on the ruination and drill the sight into his mind so he could understand. Sitting here safe in a place he’d spent many years in comfort just wasn’t giving him a clear vision of how bad things were.

_We need to change things. We need to change them now. What was the name of that girl who could go back in time?_

Erik blinked, then nodded at the logic. If they could send one of his consciousnesses back in time before this happened, they could stop everything. This future was too dark and too grave to be a true future. He couldn’t allow this living hell to ever exist.

“Where’s Kitty Pryde?”

He dreaded the answer, half expecting Pietro to tell him Kitty had been ruthlessly slaughtered at the pacifistic man’s hand. But although what Pietro said next wasn’t what Erik had been half expecting, it was almost worse in a way.

“Professor X has her locked up. I guess he thought she could be useful if he ever made a mistake. Who knows, maybe in some universe we really did defeat him and the Exemplars. But it’s all useless if he can just rewind time and start over again. For him it’s probably like a video game where his enemies don’t respawn after they’re killed; easier than breathing with as many redoes as he wants.”

That meant it was literally impossible to defeat him.

_I don’t care if he’s impossible to defeat. If we can just talk to him—_

**_You haven’t been around for as long as I have. There are times when a case is truly hopeless, and I know Pietro well enough to know that this is one of those cases._ **

_Like the time when Charles killed himself to save everyone? I can see into your head now that I’m living here, and I know you lied. You didn’t come back here to save the world; you came back for the sole purpose of saving Charles._

**_If you can see into my head, you’ll see why. Charles is—_ **

_A good friend. And a logical one. You’re right; I wouldn’t have helped you if I’d known what this was about. I wouldn’t have helped you and all of these people wouldn’t have had to die. How stupid did old age make me? I don’t care that you loved him; it was the wrong thing to do._

**_You can never know what you’ll do in a situation until it happens to you. Charles’ death did happen to me, and that means it happened to you. Don’t forget that I was also in your head, and I know even now you love him. If you were in my shoes, you would’ve done the same. We wear the same shoes, so you more or less_ did _do the same._**

_You fucking asshole. You spent the last ten years of your life happy with him, and you still wanted more because you’re a greedy old bastard. You were in your seventies; you both had to die sooner or later. Yet you came back to have more time with him, and in doing so you took our future away. I’m so happy I became a nearsighted chess player who couldn’t see the big picture. No wonder Charles won the last game; he saw further ahead than you ever cared to look._

Erik paused at that, his lips quivering in anger, but also in a deep sorrow. Because of what he’d done, it truly did mean that ninety percent of his happy memories with Charles would remain true only in his mind. Everything his life had been, the entire forty years of playing who-could-see-further-ahead with Charles, was now completely gone. He shouldn’t have come back, he realized. It had been an idiotic mistake made out of grief and anger, yet no one had tried to stop him because their love for Charles clouded their vision. He needed to fix what he’d done.

“Is Azazel still alive?”

Pietro looked as if he would protest Erik’s obvious intentions, but then he shrugged with a nod, beyond caring at that point. Erik nodded as well and swung his legs out of bed to get up. When he tried to stand, however, his legs gave out and he landed in a heap on the floor. Pietro stood up and left the room, leaving Erik to frown disconcertedly, wondering if Pietro had simply given up on even trying to help anyone. But the next thing he knew, Pietro was wheeling in a familiar wheelchair, one with heavy metal X’s on the wheels.

“You’ve been in a coma for forty years. Your muscles have atrophied and I don’t think you’ll ever be able to walk again.”

His voice was flat, devoid of emotion as he lifted Erik into the wheelchair and leaned down to remove an IV from Erik’s arm. The statement was a shocking blow; imagining the rest of his life in a wheelchair, unable to stride through Asteroid M with an easy familiarity, was unnecessarily harsh and ironic. Though he didn’t have time to think on it because of the desperation in his mission, a small part of him realized he could sympathize with Charles taking the serum.

“Azazel is one of the last people still whole enough to fight.”

As Pietro spoke, he grabbed the back of Erik’s wheelchair and began wheeling him down the hall. Erik could’ve stopped him; even without the electronic device that moved the chair, Erik could make it wheel itself, but the way Pietro clutched the chair made him realize that it was more about support for Pietro than support for him. He was going to ask what Pietro meant, but soon enough they were passing people who were well illuminated under the harsh, sterile lights, and he saw exactly what Pietro meant. A pretty woman with bronzed skin limped by on a prosthetic leg, one arm hanging limply while the other was completely gone. A huge bald man with blue skin and red markings etched into it seemed to be just missing a half of his body, an arm and leg gone with a large part of his torso also missing as he wheeled by with one hand. One man walked by in an iron suit, and Erik had the horrible feeling that there was barely more than an upper torso and his head contained within the suit.

Even worse was the way they completely disregarded Erik and Pietro; they drifted by as if they were floating on a cloud above all of the pain and sorrow. They weren’t there, not really. Despite their missing limbs, the thing that seemed to be completely missing was any sign of a soul. Any sign at all that showed there was still a feeling, thinking person alive within the body.

“Is there anyone left with any fighting spirit?”

Erik’s whisper went unanswered, but the people he saw offered him something far more tangible than any words would be. Right before they entered the main hall, a man sat curled in the fetal position against the wall, his head buried in his arms as small, childish whimpers issued from his mouth. He looked up at the sound of approaching steps and a wheelchair, and for a second there was a look of hope radiating from his wide blue eyes that completely shook Erik to the core.

“Rogue?”

His voice was… crazy. That was the only thing Erik could think of to describe it. His voice and eyes were those of a concentration camp prisoner who’d spent too long cleaning up the bodies of his family and friends, who’d managed to detach himself from reality so he wouldn’t have to believe in the horrors anymore. Around him, ice decorated the walls like splashes of blood, smoothing itself over the walls to give them a distorted look.

“Rogue is dead, Bobby. Go back to your room.”

Erik wanted to tell Pietro not to speak to abruptly to the broken man, but Bobby simply shrugged and stood up, walking past them with a blank happiness akin to a smile painted on a marionette. That was what they all were—marionettes dancing aimlessly on strings not really being held by anybody. The slightest pressure could cut their strings and make them slump over in defeat. Pietro watched Bobby go with a grim shake of his head, then he shoved open the door and entered the main hall, where a small smattering of people were gathered around a map.

“If Azazel transported Quicksilver here, we might be able to grab a couple of the Krylorian children. Other than that, I guess we have to cross this world off of the list.”

The man speaking was an older man, brown hair streaked with silver over a strong, determined face. Despite that, however, he had heavy bags under his eyes, and if Erik looked close enough he was sure he’d find bags under those bags. Beside him, another older man with longer hair and eyes painted charcoal nodded in agreement, his mouth a thin line as he struggled to stay standing on a lame leg. On the other side a woman with lovely green skin clutched the speaker’s hand tightly, and she kept tugging on it as if she wanted to drag him away and hide him forever. Erik recognized a few of the others; Hawkeye stood bent awkwardly as if he’d never stand straight again, and Black Widow watched the proceedings grimly in a tank top, a stump where her right arm had been. Hank was sitting down, a cloth wound around his throat as he gave the speaker a thumbs up. The oxygen tank sitting beside him gave Erik a nice sized lump in his throat. The final person he recognized—but only barely—was Alex, whose pretty face had been scarred almost beyond recognition with what looked like burn scars. One eye was covered by a large patch, and the rest of his face shone a shiny pink, scars swirling over the stretched skin there.

“Okay. We have another person who may be able to help with lifting metal, but he can’t walk so this mission is out for him.”

Everyone turned to Pietro and Magneto, and though there were a couple of shocked faces, none of the reactions were very large. Azazel, who looked like his soul had been run through a meat grinder, offered Erik a tight nod before turning back to the map. Alex’s lipless face seemed to grimace and he just shook his head, while Hank brought a device up to his throat and spoke through it, his voice sounding oddly mechanical and flat.

“Great. The man who caused this mess is here to fuck up more.”

_He’s right. You did cause this. So come up with a plan here and now to make it better._

“I’m here to offer a solution.”

The man who’d been speaking straightened and came over to Erik, the green-skinned woman following, not letting go of his hand.

“The name’s Peter Quill. If you have a way of getting out of this, it’d be much appreciated. I’ve heard everything and despite popular opinion, I don’t think it was your fault.”

Peter offered his free hand and Erik reached up to shake it weakly. They must’ve moved his arms and upper body to make sure those muscles didn’t atrophy, and for that he was grateful. He was also grateful that Peter, who was clearly the leader, didn’t blame him the way everyone else did.

“Thank you, Peter. From what I’ve heard, Charles has Kitty Pryde, a mutant who can send me back in time, locked up somewhere. If we use the plan you just came up with—Azazel transporting Pietro to Earth and Pietro grabbing her before anyone can react—we can use her to stop this from every happening.”

“Do you not think we’ve tried that?”

The green woman’s voice was sharp, laced with a dark hostility that seemed directed more at the world in general than at any particular person.

“We lost a good soldier—my _husband_ —trying that.”

The man with the black decorating his eyes stepped forward, his lips pulled back in what could’ve been a snarl or a desperate attempt not to cry. Maybe both. Now that he was closer, Erik recognized him as a good friend—and most likely, from what he’d said, lover—of Captain America.

“Guys, let’s just hear him out.”

Peter held a hand up before Black Widow and Hawkeye could start in on the argument as well, directing his full attention at Erik. Erik realized from the look in his eyes that the reason this man was the leader was that he still had hope, against all odds. Many of the people who’d been lost must’ve been his comrades as well, yet he still seemed to believe that there was some way of reconciling this future and peace.

“I imagine it failed because Charles has incredible telepathic abilities, and he knew you were there the moment you tried something.”

Peter nodded, his face dropping as if in memory of the time people had gone in to try and grab Kitty to save the world.

“Yes, that’s it exactly. We had Captain America wear your helmet and we sent Quicksilver and Azazel in with headbands. The problem was, Professor X was connected to every mind in the facility so as soon as the guards were taken out he knew. Azazel got Quicksilver and Captain America out, but by that time the professor had already managed to send a spear through Captain America’s chest—he has telekinesis too, apparently. There was nothing we could do.”

_You should tell them to stop referring to the thing possessing Charles as him. You need to stop too; it isn’t Charles, it’s some sort of separate entity._

Erik did his best to ignore his seething younger self, as he ran through scenarios in his head of what would happen when… _if_ his plan failed.

“So the problem was that Charles wasn’t distracted.” _It isn’t Charles._ “In that case, if I serve as a distraction, do you think it can work?”

Peter looked down at him, considering, and Erik could see the skepticism on his face. How was a crippled man who’d been in a coma for forty years supposed to distract the most powerful being on the planet?

“I know Charles. I know I can distract him. Besides, if he figures anything out he’ll only kill me and Azazel will be able to transport Pietro out. It isn’t much of a loss considering the fact that I haven’t been awake long enough for you to factor me into your plans.”

“But I don’t think just talking to the dude will really distract hi—”

_I TOLD YOU TO STOP REFERRING TO THAT THING AS CHARLES!_

Before he could calm his younger self, a deep, heated anger flared up from the depths of his mind and the metal table Peter and the others had been working on completely flattened out, crumbling like a piece of paper. The lights overhead trembled as well, and a large crack split the black-eyed soldier’s armour in two, much to his disgruntled surprise.

“Oh. Okay, mission approved.”

Peter flashed a thumbs up with his free hand, the smallest of smiles touching his face.

“I wish I could go with you, man, but we usually only send three people in in case of… well, you know.”

Erik understood perfectly, and he also knew that everyone on the asteroid would completely shatter if they lost their hopeful, tired leader who tried his best to be cheerful even in such dire times. Azazel stepped towards Erik’s wheelchair, his face set in a carefully neutral expression as he grabbed the side of Erik’s wheelchair. As much as he hid his emotions on his face, there was no denying a shake in his hands. Pietro let out a jaw-cracking yawn and stepped up to rest a hand on Azazel’s shoulder, his skin almost as gray as his hair in a sickened, nervous look.

“We haven’t been to Earth in years, so I don’t know what you’ll find there. Last time there was a mission there was when Captain America went with Quicksilver and Azazel. Apparently it was… bad. Do you think you can handle the mental strain?”

Erik frowned, looking Peter straight in the eye.

“I survived the Holocaust. I cleaned up the bodies from the concentration camp gas showers. I think I can handle it.”

“Fair enough.”

Peter turned and made his way to a safe on the wall, humming under his breath as he entered the code and opened it, taking out Erik’s helmet and two telepath-blocking headbands.

“Azazel can drop you off at that thing’s ‘gate’ and then transport in to find Kitty. We’ve kept a loose surveillance on everyone, so we know that thing is living in Professor X’s mansion out on the courtyard. There are brainwashed human guards on the inside, and the eight are all out conquering other worlds.”

Peter came over and handed Pietro and Azazel their helmets while Erik simply used his powers to settle the familiar helmet over his head. It felt rather large and clumsy now, and he wondered just how much he must’ve shrunk lying in bed and living off of IV liquids for years. He still wasn’t one hundred percent—he felt weak and slightly woozy—but if he had to wait in a world where his best friend was possessed and destroying planets any longer, he’d be wearing the same expression as everyone else in the place.

“I don’t really have any advice beyond that. Two words, I guess. The same ones I give to everyone before a mission. Don’t die.”

Erik nodded, his helmet bobbing on his head, as he glanced at Hank and Alex. Neither of them would meet his gaze, though whether it was out of spite or sadness that this was the way things had turned out he had no idea.

“Don’t take this offensively, Peter, but I hope that the next time we meet will be the last time for many, many years.”

Peter nodded with an ‘Absolutely,’ giving a small wave and that half-smile that attempted good humour. Then there was a whoosh of wind, and the last thing Erik saw before hell on earth was Alex’s burning eye looking into his, telling him to avenge everyone who had fallen before Charles’ wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I APOLOGIZE FOR KILLING DEADPOOL AND SPIDERMAN AND CAPTAIN AMERICA AND EVERYONE AWESOME. FEEL FREE TO HATE ME. I DO.


End file.
